Ramsay took a deep slug of whisky and placed the bottle on the counter with a thump. “You really are dense, aren’t you, de Moncreiffe?”
“Don’t tell me you think it’s you.” Quinn rolled his eyes.
“Of course not. It’s that bastard Roderick. It always has been, ever since we got here.” Ramsay’s dark expression was murderous. “And after what happened two nights ago …”
Quinn stiffened. “What happened two nights ago?”
Ramsay took another swallow, swished it over his tongue, and brooded a silent moment. “Did you notice the long table in the hall is gone, Quinn?”
“Now that you mention it, yes, it is. What happened to it?”
“I saw pieces of it out back behind the bothy. It was shattered down the center.”
Quinn said nothing. He knew of only one man who could shatter a table of such massive proportions with his bare hands.
“I came down yesterday to find the maids sweeping food off the floor. One of the candelabra was wedged into the wall. Someone had a helluva fight in there two nights ago. But nobody has breathed a word about it, have they?”
“What are you saying, Logan?” Quinn asked grimly.
“Just that the only two people who were well enough to dine in the hall two nights ago were Grimm and Jillian. They obviously fought, but today Grimm didn’t seem bitter. And Jillian, why, the woman has been wreathed in smiles and good humor. Matter of fact, just as a little test, what say we go wake Grimm right now and talk to him about it? That is, if he’s not otherwise occupied.”
“If you’re insinuating that Jillian might be in his chambers, you’re a stupid bastard and I’ll call you out for it,” Quinn snapped. “And maybe there was a fight in the hall between them, but I guarantee you that Grimm is far too honorable to seduce Jillian. Besides, he can’t even bring himself to say a civil word to her. He certainly couldn’t be nice to her long enough to seduce her.”
“You don’t find it curious that just when it seemed like you were making progress with her, you and I get poisoned and put out of the running, but he doesn’t?” Ramsay asked. “I’d say it was suspiciously convenient. I think it’s damned odd that he didn’t get sick too.”
“He didn’t consume any of the poison,” Quinn defended.
“Maybe that’s because he knew what was poisoned in advance,” Ramsay argued.
“That’s enough, Logan!” Quinn snapped. “It’s one thing to accuse him of wanting Jillian. Hell, we all want her. But it’s entirely another to accuse him of trying to kill us. You don’t know a damn thing about Grimm Roderick.”
“Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t know him,” Ramsay countered. “Maybe Grimm Roderick pretends to be something he’s not. I, for one, plan to wake him right now and find out.” Ramsay stalked from the room, muttering under his breath.
Quinn shook his head and vaulted after him. “Logan, would you cool your heels—”
“No! You’re so convinced of his innocence, I say let’s make him prove it!” Ramsay took the stairs to the west wing three at a time, and Quinn had to lope to keep up. As Logan sped down the long corridor, Quinn overtook him and placed a restraining hand on his shoulder, but Ramsay shook it off.
“If you’re so convinced he wouldn’t do it, what are you afraid of, de Moncreiffe? Let’s just go rouse him.”
“You’re not thinking clearly about this, Ram—” Quinn broke off abruptly as the door to Grimm’s chambers eased opened.
When Jillian slipped out into the hallway, his eyes widened incredulously. There was unequivocally no reason for Jillian to be leaving Grimm’s chambers in the wee hours of the morning but for the reason Ramsay had suggested. She was his lover.
Quinn instantly ducked back, pulling Ramsay with him into the shadowed alcove of a doorway.
Her hair was disheveled, and she wore only a woolen draped about her shoulders. Although it trailed nearly to the floor, it left little doubt that there was nothing beneath it.
“Odin’s balls,” he whispered.
Ramsay favored him with a mocking smile as they lurked in the dark alcove. “Not the honorable Grimm Roderick, right, Quinn?” he whispered.
“That son of a bitch.” Quinn’s gaze lingered on Jillian’s sweet curves as she disappeared down the hallway. The early rays of dawn coming in the tall windows colored his eyes with a strangely crimson glint as he stared at Ramsay.
“Some best friend, eh, de Moncreiffe? He knew you wanted her. He doesn’t even offer her marriage. He just takes it for free.”